


then i remembered there's always another choice

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars (Marvel Comics), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Shattered Empire
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Shara encounters trouble on a mission and draws on her own strength and her love for her family to get her through.
Relationships: Shara Bey/Kes Dameron
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	then i remembered there's always another choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dasakuryo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasakuryo/gifts).



> The title comes from Stephen Dunn.

This, Shara reflected, would be a crummy way to go out.

“Green Three requesting assistance, copy,” she said one last time into the comm unit, though it had crackled out into dead several minutes before. Worth a shot. Maybe someone would hear, despite all the logical reasons it should be impossible.

At least she’d taken out the TIE that hit her.

She dragged herself the rest of her way out of her cockpit, biting her lip so she wouldn’t cry out when her ankle, already at a less than ideal angle, twisted into loose wiring and wedged in. She gritted her teeth and pulled, stumbling as she fell out onto the hard surface of the mountain ledge she had crashed on.

“Well, that’s broken,” Shara muttered to herself. She forced herself up anyway, leaning onto her better leg, supporting herself with a hand to the side of her ship. She half-hopped around to the tiny storage compartment and yanked out the medkit before collapsing on her bottom.

 _Ow._ Bruised rib, at least, to go along with the ankle, and the haziness of her vision paired with the pounding in her head suggested a possible concussion. She carefully cleaned the wound on her temple as best she could, thinking that the fact she couldn’t be certain whether she had blacked out or not probably wasn’t a point in her favor.

Resting her back against the ship, Shara dragged her fingers across the metal. “Sorry, baby.”

She was a good mechanic but she was afraid a repair job of this magnitude was beyond her, especially considering she was… Where was she? Shara surveyed her surroundings. The minimal data she had been able to collect before she crashed had indicated the planet was largely uninhabited but was suitable for humans. Oxygen content a little lower than desirable, she was realizing, but she wasn’t likely to be running any time soon.

The air was cool, despite the thickness of her flight suit, and what sunlight there may have been was blocked by thick cloud cover. Down the mountain there was little foliage, some scrubby brush, mostly, and it seemed a poor place for growing things.

Kes would hate it, she decided. He loved green. Though he might like the challenge of climbing the mountain in slightly oxygen-deficient atmosphere, with the proper precautions, of course.

There was a bacta patch in the medkit so Shara put it to use where she felt the greatest need was, over her throbbing, unnaturally bent ankle. It dulled the pain slightly, but she knew what she actually needed was a physician. Shame that seemed unlikely at the moment.

How far, she wondered, would she need to go to find help? Largely uninhabited, yes, but not completely. If she could only find a means of communicating, or even a ride off-planet. She could find her way back to the Rebellion from wherever she ended up.

Shara wiggled her foot experimentally and regretted it.

However far she needed to go, she feared, would be too far on a broken ankle in air she could only partially breathe. She wished the breathing mask and tank hadn’t been damaged in the crash, but then, she wished a lot of things. Not much of a point to that.

Inside her flight suit, in an inner pocket over her heart, was a tiny holo projector. It was that that she pulled out now, switching it on, the blue-tinged form of her sweet baby boy appearing. “Mama’s in a bit of trouble,” she said to Poe’s grinning face. “But she’ll figure it out.”

She hoped. She had a hell of a lot waiting for her.

Shara’s insides twinged when she thought of Poe, growing up with her father, without her and Kes. Dad sent word and holos when he could but communication was few and far between, and she was missing so much of Poe’s life. She knew this had been the right decision, because she needed Poe to live in a better world than she had, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to live in a world without his mother.

So she just needed to stop that from happening.

“Could really use my survivalist husband right about now,” Shara mused aloud to herself as she clicked off the holo and tucked it away, and wondered what talking to herself meant on the scale of ‘might have a concussion’ to ‘definitely have a concussion’.

Kes would know exactly what to do, and he would probably say something like, “Oh, so this is why you married me, babe? ‘Cause I can keep you alive on deserted planets on the fringe of nowhere when you crash? You really played the long game, huh?”

And Shara would roll her eyes and absolutely not smile, but Kes would giver that smirk and a wriggle of his eyebrows and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from laughing at the silly ass of a man she loved.

It made her feel better simply thinking about him, like he was here with her in a way that mattered, even if it wasn’t physically true. Besides, she was Shara Bey, and she could handle a bit of surviving.

She touched her fingertips to her forehead, breathing. She was feeling light-headed, and wasn’t sure if that was another tick in the column of ‘definitely have a concussion’ or if it was merely due to the atmosphere.

When she hauled herself to her feet, she did it slowly and carefully, using the solid bulk of her ship to balance her weight against and to steady herself. She hopped the few steps to the open cockpit and leaned inside, keeping as much weight as she could off of her bad leg. Maybe she couldn’t repair the A-wing, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t repair the comms. Someone had to be listening.

There was no way in hell she was dying here.

It was frustrating, tedious work to pick through the wiring and seek to alter and reform connections. Her head pounded, her vision blurred, and she found it difficult to focus. Shara let herself imagine the soothing rumble of Kes’ voice, the comfort of his hand braced on her shoulder, and it made it a little easier.

The echo of static over the comm unit was the most beautiful sound she had heard since Poe’s burbling voice.

“Green Three,” she said. “This is Green Three, do you copy?”

Shara sank back down, half on the ground and half in the cockpit. She blinked in an effort to clear her vision but her head was spinning. “This is Green Three, do you copy? Requesting immediate assistance.” She read off her approximate coordinates, the last reading her ship had registered.

When she heard a crackling voice answer her, she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her imagination, her addled brain bringing a dream to life, just before she lost consciousness.

-

Shara woke in a med bay, the bland, sterile surroundings familiar. It could have been any med bay in a half dozen ships in the fleet, but the only thing that mattered was that she was off that forsaken planet and in the hands of the Rebellion.

“Took your sweet time,” said a very, very welcome voice.

Shara closed her eyes and then opened them again, turning her head to see Kes in a chair beside her, bending over her bed. “So did the Rebellion.”

He laughed. “Well, can you blame them? They figured you had it all sorted out yourself. Shara Bey, need help? Crazy talk.” The softness in his eyes gave the lie to his words, revealing clearly how worried he had been. Shara edged her hand over closer and he squeezed it tight.

“Not much help,” she said. “Just a ride. Ruined my ship, you see.”

“Yeah, I saw. Too bad. I liked that one.”

“Thought you were supposed to be halfway across the galaxy by now.”

“I was.” Kes stroked Shara’s hair back from her face. “But then you needed me.”

It was ridiculous, the suggestion that the Rebellion had let Kes give up his spot on a mission, that they had allowed him to stay behind simply because Shara had gotten herself into trouble. It shouldn’t be that important.

But she relished the touch of his hand to her face, cherished it, and felt tears prick at her eyes. It could have been terrible, so terrible, but it wasn’t. She was here, and Kes was here, and selfishly, she needed that.

She silently thanked whoever had given the okay for Kes to remain behind, so that he could be here with her now.

“Got the bastard who trashed my ship,” Shara said, and forgot about everything but the warmth of Kes’ smile as he looked at her.

“That’s my girl,” he said, his palm pressed to hers, their fingers interlaced, and nothing else mattered.


End file.
